Wanna-Bes Fall in Line for a Shot at Stardom : Entertainment: More than 2,000 potential bit players pout, primp and pose for a chance to join the actors union.

They wore their best suits, their shortest miniskirts--or both. Dressed as business people, cops, waiters, surfers, Valley girls, gang members and homeless people, they smiled their best smiles and tried to convey the look that could make them rich and famous.

The aim of the more than 2,000 extras who formed a half-mile line outside Central Casting in Burbank on Tuesday was to win a role that would qualify them to join the Screen Actors Guild--a step crucial to launching a Hollywood acting career.

The cattle call was the result of a new contract between the Screen Actors Guild and the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers that increases the number of union extras required on TV shows and movies. The contract takes effect today. To fill the need for those additional bit players and “background artists,” a call was put out by Central Casting, which helps movie makers and television producers people their sets. Seemingly every wanna-be actor in the area answered.

“It’s like winning the lottery,” said Howard DuVall of Arcadia as he clutched the coveted registration slip that allows him to be considered for union roles. “It’s like a dream come true. I can quit my job. I can devote myself to acting full time.”

DuVall, a balding 42-year-old who makes his living installing pet doors, had waited 21 hours and was first in line on West Olive Avenue when casting directors began checking out the extras at 9 a.m. When he failed to catch anyone’s eye, DuVall trotted after a casting director for several blocks, pleading for a spot on the list until he was added.

“Knowing Howard, I believe he stayed here all night--he’s serious,” said Central Casting’s Steven Spiker, who had worked with DuVall before.

DuVall “also has a real versatile look, real professional,” Spiker said. “Howard could play anything from a highway patrolman to the guy next door.”

Casting directors said they were looking for specific types, such as middle-aged parents or young people who can play high school students. In general, the more attractive you are, the more work you will find.

When the bleary-eyed extras saw any casting directors approach, they would quickly put down their coffee, snuff out their cigarettes, straighten their ties, tease their hair and freshen their lipstick. Anticipating the appraising look of a casting director, those hoping to be chosen for the union-eligible pool would magically adopt The Pose, pouting their lips or jutting their jaws just so.

“I guess they want my look today,” said Shon Boloor, a 30-something from Woodland Hills who was picked. “It’s crazy because you never really know what they want. They just pick you or they don’t.”

Spiker said 200 extras--fewer than one in 10--were added to the list of those who will now become eligible for union membership, which means that Central Casting considers them serious enough to be sent out to union sets. Those not chosen were thanked and told to “keep in touch.”

Under the contract adopted in February, producers agreed to hire a minimum of 15 union extras for prime-time television shows and 30 for feature films. The contract also cuts daily pay for union extras from $86 to $65, but dramatically boosts their numbers and career opportunities. Casting directors said the demand for union extras may double, triple or even quadruple as a result of the agreement.

Despite the low pay for union jobs, becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild opens doors. Not only does union membership make them eligible for more substantial acting jobs, it makes it easier to attract an agent and qualifies them for union health and pension benefits.

But merely being chosen for Central Casting’s extras pool doesn’t guarantee SAG membership. Actors must be cast in union roles and work at least three days before becoming eligible.

Despite the hurdles, many of those in line Tuesday were optimistic that being noticed was the first step toward making the cover of People magazine.

For all those waiters, parking lot attendants and limousine drivers with dreams of becoming the next Luke Perry, Julia Roberts or Danny Glover, the fabled big break was what made them wait for hours while casting directors scanned the line.

“All I want to do is be noticed. When you’re on the set you have a chance to be discovered,” said Shannon Jones of Burbank, a part-time model. Jones, like many extras, will not give her age, saying instead, “I play 20-something roles.”

Many in line specialize in playing faceless office workers, beautiful women sitting at the next table while the star is served soup or beefy guys heading to the showers in locker room scenes.

But not all extra jobs involve such generic types. Sometimes an esoteric look is an asset, said casting director Tony Angelo. “We’re doing a call for Israeli homeless people.”

Shawn Jensen, a ponytailed blond surfer-type from Laguna Beach, got discouraged when he heard that he wasn’t selected.

“I don’t think that’s my call,” he said. “Well, maybe they’ll do a sequel to ‘Point Break.’ ”